


Meteor showers

by eyeslikerain



Category: Brideshead Revisited - All Media Types, Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
Genre: Arcadian days, First Time, M/M, blurred boundaries becoming clear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:25:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13458222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeslikerain/pseuds/eyeslikerain
Summary: Sebastian turned me, damp and still wet from my bath, to face myself in the mirror. His angelic face glanced over my naked shoulder.





	Meteor showers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kimbeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimbeen/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [流星雨（Meteor Shower）](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13994136) by [GloriaIveris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaIveris/pseuds/GloriaIveris)



> ...for the "blurred boundaries" - love that expression!

„Look here. Just look in the mirror.“

Sebastian turned me, damp and still wet from my bath, to face myself in the mirror. His angelic face glanced over my naked shoulder. He had been dressing after his own bath, managing just to put on his pyjama bottoms before he saw me. Standing behind me, he straightened my torso with his hands, lightly on my skin, and whispered:

„You don‘t have to go to the Ashmolean. Or Rome. If you want to see true beauty, just – look here.“

I swallowed and grasped the towel around my hips tighter. We had spoken of statues I hoped to see one day, of what defines beauty, what is beauty in different eras. And, like so often, Sebastian seemed to have the right answer in his charming simplicity.

Our eyes connected. I wanted to turn around to see him in person, not just in the mirror, but he held me and said softly:

„Now look at this.“ He graced the side of my neck, traced his fingers slowly upwards until I lifted my head a bit and felt completely vulnerable. Turning at my chin, he slid down to my chest, painted a line from there up to my shoulder again and repeated it on the other side.

„What perfect proportions.“

I smiled. I felt awkward, being the center of attention like this, but I wanted him to continue nevertheless.

His flat hand wandered down my stomach and rested there, took a little turn to my ribs and back again to my middle. His hand heaved from my breathing – I saw it‘s slight movements and felt myself intimately connected to him. Our eyes met again in the mirror, askingly, surprised of the sudden outbreak of an unknown kind of closeness.

„And that‘s just your upper half, for heaven‘s sake!“, he smirked, turning away and breaking the spell to struggle into his pyjama top.

 

The next morning found us a bit hung over. Not as bad as on other occasions, but still. We decided to take it slow and rested in the wicker chairs on the terrace after breakfast. Sebastian lounged on the deckchair with the newspaper, but soon he folded it on his stomach and leaned back with closed eyes. He didn‘t stir for a long time and seemed to have fallen asleep. He looked innocent and breathtakingly beautiful when resting like this. I got up noiselessly and moved through the open doors to the gardenroom to work a bit on my mural.

After having completed a part in oil and having cleaned the brushes, I continued to sketch the outlines for the next part, always referring to my sketchbook, when I heard soft, shuffling steps behind me. Sebastian appeared, slighty rumpled, shining like the new day itself and utterly charming.

„Hello, my darling.“ He came to me and brushed his sleep-warm cheek against mine. „Slept enough?“, I asked.

„Mmh, maybe.“ He leaned back against a column and crossed his legs lazily. „How is the painting going?“

„Don‘t move!“, I commanded. He looked at me surprised.

„Can you stay like that for a few minutes? I want to put you into the painting.“

„Me? Why?“

„Because – you are Brideshead to me. Somehow. You belong here. So you belong into the painting.“

„I don‘t belong here. It‘s just the place where my family lives.“

I didn‘t understand why he always stressed this distinction, but I tried to divert him:

„Just stay like that, if possible. There‘s a good boy.“

I leaned in to kiss his cheek. He raised an eyebrow and broke into his usual, sunshiny grin when I blew him another kiss through the air. I turned to the wall again to capture his relaxed pose in quick strokes, knowing all too well that standing immobile was no natural state for him. And sure enough, he soon showed signs of unrest and started to ask how much longer he was condemned to spend a beautiful summer‘s day inside. But inwardly, he was pleased to get a place in the mural and to have my eyes on him, I felt that. I was finished, but tried mischieviously to prolong my viewing pleasure:

„Don‘t move. Just one more minute.“

„Well, I am glad I am at least fairly comfortable and don‘t have to sit around in awkward poses without clothes for you.“

Our eyes met. A strange tingle crept down my spine. He held my gaze.

„I would love to paint you in the nude. Some day.“

He raised an eyebrow.

„But not here. My family would burst in at the most inconvenient moment.“

„In Oxford, then.“

We looked at each other, unsmiling and rather dumbstruck. A sudden tension hung between us. I had never felt so daring, despite our relaxed, intimate relationship. I was truly transgressing boundaries when I continued:

„I would love to paint you - in a tangled bed, with tousled hair. Lying on your side. Like you look in the morning. But completely naked. And satisfied. Beaming and fulfilled after a night of love-making.“

The silence that followed was tangible. Sebastian stood maybe one foot from me, but I felt invisible strings growing and netting themselves between us, like a web of gold and sunshine, and I was near stepping forward and touching him. I feared I had insulted him, but I stayed where I was. His eyes were large and shining, and I almost exploded with longing for him and fear to have spoilt everything. 

He broke the spell:

„Well, you are more wicked than I thought. Can I have a cigarette now?“

I nodded. I had insulted him. Damnation.

 

But he came back, stood beside me and looked at the mural.

„I say, it‘s a great pleasue to be painted by you. I like your eyes on me.“

He blew out some smoke and asked casually:

„And would you have any idea how to bring me into the state you mentioned?“

I guess now my eyes were large. I hid a smile and muttered:

„Well, actually, yes. One or two. Or three.“, I added, looking playfully at him. He smirked.

„May I?“, I asked, indicating his cigarette. He held it to my lips and I opened them lightly, but was flooded in the next moment by such a wave of emotions that I didn‘t remember how to continue. When I had put the cigarette in Julia‘s mouth, I had felt that strange, tiny flicker of sexuality. Nothing had prepared me for the volcano of pure carnal desire that ran in a gigantic wave through my whole body when Sebastian held the cigarette to my lips. I blinked and tried to close my mouth, but Sebastian had withdrawn the smoke again. He leaned in very close and asked in a dark, hoarse voice:

„Forgot how to smoke? Or did you just want to know how it feels if I put something into your mouth?“

„Sebastian!“, I gasped. I had always thought him to be fairly innocent. He was, as I should find out soon, but he was most adorable when pretending to be naughty like now.

He pressed his lips together in a gesture of grim determination I loved on him and hastily stubbed out the cigarette. Looking up at me, he took the pencil from my hands. I was still overcome with the wave of burning desire that had washed over me. Suddenly, his hand, which had lain on my stomach after my bath yesterday, seemed to burn on my skin. When he took my fingers and started to pull me out of the room, I let him guide me like mesmerised, down long, dim hallways, echoeing marbled halls, up several staircases and more hallways.

And so, we became lovers, there in my rose-coloured bedroom at Brideshead, on a perfect summer afternoon. And we finally crossed the line from the state of blurred boundaries we had dwelled in so long to the very definite one we inhabited now, the one we had an actual word for. There would forever be a „before“ and „after“ this particular afternoon. 

And it was only fitting for a summer creature like Sebastian to reach this new level of intimacy on summer‘s height, in broad daylight, when everything seemed ripe, unclouded and with the promise of „forever“. At the same time, I already felt the sting because we knew only too well that there would be an inevitable end to summer itself as well as to our pleasures.


End file.
